


Yassen, Please

by DantesThird



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, NCIS
Genre: Dark fic, Kidnapping, Listen I wrote this back in highschool idek, Non-Consensual Touching, POV Outsider, Underage Rape/Non-con, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DantesThird/pseuds/DantesThird
Summary: While investigating the murder of a naval officer, Tony DiNozzo stumbles upon the murderer- and the teenaged boy he's kidnapped.
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	Yassen, Please

“No!”

The shout came from the loading dock around the corner, followed quickly by a metallic clang that echoed around the storage units. 

Tony ran towards the sound and saw two figures. A man and a teenager, and the man was holding the teenager face down as he struggled. Tony pulled out his gun and shouted, “Federal Agent!”

“Get away from him,” he ordered, aiming his gun at the cold man.

The killer finished securing the zip tie he had around the boy’s elbows and stood, not moving away from him or towards Tony.

“No,” the kid gasped as he craned his neck to look at Tony, revealing blood and bruises. “You can’t-“

“Show me your hands!” Tony walked slowly forward, closing the gap between them to a few meager yards. 

The boy on the ground continued to protest and plead with the man- Yassen. Yassen displayed his hands at waist height with a simpering nod. “Be quiet, Sasha,” he said simply. 

‘Sasha,’ as he was called, pressed his forehead into the concrete beneath him and bit his lip painfully.

Carefully, Tony took another few steps towards the two. “Get away from him and get on the ground or I swear I will put two in your chest.”

“Yassen,” Sasha pleaded as he rolled onto his side to face them. His British accent was clear. “Please. His team- his team will find his body. They won’t rest until they find us.”

“On the ground now!” Tony shouted. He was an idiot. No, Ziva, go with McGee. The bar is going to be way more dangerous than the storage unit.

It didn’t register until he fell. One minute Yassen had his hands out to his sides, the next Tony was on the ground. He looked at his leg and felt sick. His pants were rapidly soaking up his blood. 

Tony heard Sasha screaming, but then Yassen was there, picking up Tony’s gun from where he had dropped it on the gravely concrete. Yassen then reached for Tony and he pulled away, until the killer’s cold gun pressed against his throat.

“Don’t be stupid,” Yassen warned in a low Russian accent. 

Tony swallowed and held still, glaring at the other man as he searched his pockets and pulled out his phone and wallet with his free hand. Yassen felt the phone in his hand, then threw it a good twenty feet away from them and pocketed the wallet. He then began unbuckling Tony’s belt, and he jerked away.

Yassen pressed the gun against Tony’s throat hard enough to make his breathing rasp. “Would you prefer I allow you to bleed out?”

Tony glared up at him as the killer took off his belt. “Won’t you kill me anyway?”

“I find live bodies easier to move than dead,” Yassen said coldly. He wrapped Tony’s own belt around his thigh two inches above the pulsing bullet wound and tightened it. Tony yelled into his teeth, still making eye contact with Yassen.

A ringing clatter drew both of their attention to the chain-link fence on the side of the lot. Sasha had made his way to the chain-link gate at the edge of the lot and was doing his best to push it open with his shoulder. He was barely upright and doing his best to keep weight off his right ankle, which was hanging at an odd angle.

It only took a few seconds for Yassen to stride across the yard and pick him up in a bear hug. 

Tony saw his phone and began dragging himself over to it. He heard Sasha shout, but focused on getting to his phone. He was only a few yards away when he heard a much more pained shout and looked over his shoulder.

Yassen had Sasha pinned face down again, and was securing a tight zip tie around his ankles. Sasha yelled when he pulled it, clearly his ankle was injured.

The phone was only feet away from Tony’s outstretched hand when Yassen kicked it skittering across the pavement. 

“No!” Sasha shouted again. Yassen was dragging him by his shoulders, and he was still bucking and kicking as best he could. “You son of a bitch! Arsehole!”

Yassen wrestled him into the backseat of a black nondescript car and slammed the door. He turned back towards Tony.

Tony wasn’t going to get to his phone. “Let the kid go,” he said. “We can help you. Get you leniency.”

Yassen laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh. He reached down for Tony, who clocked him in the jaw. Yassen stumbled back, surprised. However, it wasn’t two seconds later that he had Tony on his stomach and was locking him into his own handcuffs.

“Oh just you wait, buddy old boy,” Tony said, lifting his head off the concrete. “NCIS is about to come down on you like a ton of bricks.”

Yassen hauled him to his feet, or foot rather, as his right leg crumpled when he tried to put any weight on it. Yassen paid it no mind and simply half dragged him to the car.

When Yassen opened the door to put Tony in the car, two feet plowed into Tony’s stomach. Sasha was on his back and kicked with all the might his bound feet could manage. Yassen simply let the blow hit Tony and then shoved him into the backseat, which knocked Sasha away.

Yassen slammed the door and Tony immediately turned and tried the handle with his hands behind his back. It didn’t budge, and Yassen climbed in the driver’s side and began driving.

Sasha got himself into a sitting position and leaned forward pleadingly. “Yassen, please. You can’t keep killing people. Please.”

“You’ve got a very valuable hostage now,” Tony said, shifting his wrists and trying to find some wiggle room in the cuffs. “So why don’t you keep me and let the kid go?”

Yassen laughed. 

It was very unsettling. Tony tried again. “Come on. NCIS will pay a big ransom for me. If you let him go, then they will be more willing to cooperate.”

Sasha ignored him and continued pleading. “Yassen, please. If you don’t kill him, I’ll-” he paused, having to force the words out. “I’ll let you-” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“No,” Yassen said coolly. “When I take you, it will not be part of some pointless bargain.”

Sasha made a noise close to a sob and curled in on himself. 

“Congratulations,” Tony said to Yassen with dead ice. “I’m going to kill you.”

“It’d be amusing to watch you try.”

Tony turned to Sasha and said whispered. “Sasha, right?”

Sasha flinched. “It’s Alex.”

“Okay. I’m Tony.” Tony nodded. “My team will get us out of this. Don’t worry.”

Alex made a small noise in between a scoff and a laugh. He was writhing slightly, as if attempting to get free of his bonds.

“Oh just you wait, buddy,” Tony snarled at Yassen. “Prison is going to be hell for you.”

He kept Yassen’s attention off Alex, even if it made his own situation worse. “Hell, that’s if you even get to prison. My partner, she’s Kidon- a Mossad assassin. And my boss has straight up killed suspects before. You’re dead.”

The car slid to a stop at a deserted pier. Yassen got out and Tony whispered frantically, “Run, kid. He’ll be busy. Run.”

Yassen pulled open the door and pulled Tony out by his jacket. Tony thrashed, making this take as long as possible. He threw his head back and successfully smacked Yassen in the nose. 

The killer grunted and threw Tony to the ground. Tony moved to protect his face, but his hands were still cuffed behind him, so when Yassen stomped on his nose he could do nothing to prevent it. A crack that was impossibly loud echoed through his head and pain soon followed.

Yassen didn’t say a word, didn’t even show anger. He simply hauled Tony back up and dragged him to the edge of the pier. He supported Tony, leaving him half leaning over the water. Tony thrashed and fought more, but he couldn’t throw off the hand or the gun pressed to the back of his head.

“Yassen!” 

Yassen pulled Tony back and threw him onto the decking of the pier. He looked and saw Alex leaning heavily on the car about ten yards from them. His ties were gone and blood was dripping from his hands. Most importantly, he had a gun pointed at Yassen.

“Let him go,” Alex commanded. He was barely on his feet, but the gun didn’t waver.

Yassen smiled again, and it was still as disturbing as before. “Sasha,” he said condescendingly. “You’ve tried this before. We both know you won’t kill me.”

Alex shook his head and insisted, “No, I will. If you kill him, I’ll kill you. Just let him go.”

Yassen took a step towards him, and a tear ran down Alex’s face.

“I’m serious!”

Yassen took pointed his gun at Tony, unflinching. Alex kept pointing the gun for a second longer before giving up and shoving the barrel under his own chin. 

Yassen froze. He looked genuinely unsettled, and it wasn’t a look he wore often.

“Don’t, kid,” Tony said, horrified.

Alex pushed it harder against his jaw. “I’ll do it. Even if you stop me now, I’ll find a way. If you kill him, if you kill anyone else, I’ll kill myself.”

Yassen didn’t say a word. All he did was stoop to grab Tony by his jacket and drag him towards the car. Tony was too stunned to resist. All he did was keep his eyes on the gun under Alex’s chin.

Once they got back to the car, Yassen put Tony in the back and held the door for Alex to climb in. He held out his hand and Alex handed him the gun. Yassen closed the door, climbed in front, and started to drive.

———

Ziva put down her phone and looked at McGee. “He is still not answering. Has he contacted you?”

McGee shook his head as Gibbs entered the bullpen and demanded, “Where the hell is DiNozzo?”

“He went to investigate the storage unit Gregorovich’s alias has been renting, Boss,” McGee said. He stood and pulled up the map and false identification used to rent the storage unit. The cold grey face matched that of the man caught on surveillance cameras killing Captain Everett. 

Ziva checked her phone again and said, “That was an hour ago and he has still not contacted any of us or picked up his phone.”

McGee’s phone buzzed and his face went slack when he read it. “Um, a 911 call reporting gunshots next to the storage facility came in forty minutes ago.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Gibbs grabbed his go bag and said, “Let’s go!”

———

There was no body. That was the only consolation.

They’d arrived at the storage unit to find police officers already investigating and had taken over. Tony wasn’t there, but at least there wasn’t a body.

“It’s Tony’s blood type,” McGee said as he stood up from the puddle of blood. There was a lot, but not a fatal amount. Not a fatal amount.

Ziva held up a phone- Tony’s. 

“Where the hell is DiNozzo?”

———

The abandoned apartment Yassen forced them into reeked of damp. Well, forced Tony. After the incident with the gun, Alex had become near docile, carrying Yassen’s duffle without a word. When Yassen’s back was turned, rage and fear played across his face, but whenever the man was looking he showed no weakness and no dissent.

Yassen held a gun to Tony’s side as he pushed him down onto the bed of the one room ground-floor apartment.

“Not even going to take me to dinner first?” Tony joked, then viciously said, “Or am I too old for you?”

“Sasha,” Yassen ordered. When Alex moved into his line of sight, he took the gun away from Tony and said, “If you try to fight while you’re uncuffed, I’ll kill you of course, but not until after I’ve made you watch as I dislocate every one of my boy’s fingers. It won’t even be the first time.”

Alex subconsciously flexed his fingers, remembering pain.

“Uncuff him and secure him to the headboard,” Yassen ordered Alex, stepping back so that he was out of lunging distance.

Rage swelled in Tony’s chest at the threat and the fact that it had been carried out before. How long had Yassen had Alex?

Alex wordlessly fished the keys from Tony’s back pocket and unlocked one hand cuff. “Roll over,” he told Tony.

Not taking his sight off Yassen, Tony turned over and lifted his hands to the headboard, where Alex secured his wrists.

“We’ll get you out of this,” Tony whispered, trying to give what little reassurance he could.

Shaking his head, Alex replied, “No, you won’t.”

“Keys,” Yassen ordered, and Alex handed them back. Next he opened the bag and pulled out what looked like a seatbelt that had been disconnected from a vehicle.

The strap was braided metal, which connected a bulky buckle. This Yassen secured, wordlessly threading it under Tony’s torso, who did nothing to make it easier for him, and clasping it at his navel.

“You shouldn’t have,” Tony said. “Jewelry just for me.”

Instead of deigning that with a response, Yassen drew a long, thin wire from the box connected to the belt up to Tony’s wrists, where he deftly wrapped it through the slats in the headboard and around each of his wrists before reconnecting it to the belt and pushing a button on it.

Tony had an idea of what the box was and stilled, not risking breaking the delicate wiring.

“What is that?” demanded Alex, stepping into Yassen’s space. “What are you doing?”

Tony glared up at Yassen and said, “It’s a bomb.”

“Yes,” Yassen agreed. He suddenly grabbed Alex by the shirt, and the boy jumped back but was held fast. “If you break that wire, or if Alex does not press that button every five minutes, it will detonate.”

Yassen shoved Alex back up against the wall and kissed him possessively. 

“Hey! Get off of him, you fucking pervert!” Tony shouted. He had to grab the bar of the headboard to stop himself from trying to lunge forward to stop the assault.

Alex clenched his eyes shut and pressed his hands flat against the wall behind him. After a long moment, Yassen pulled back from the boy, leaving him pressing himself up against the wall and looking miserable.

“I’m going to kill you!” Tony shouted, overcome with a fury that he had never known before. He had to just lay there and watch as his captor kissed and touched a child. “I’m going to bash your head in, I swear to god! Don’t fucking touch him!”

Yassen simply raised an eyebrow at Tony before turning back to Alex. His hands went to the boy’s fly, and Alex snapped his eyes open and shoved his hands against Yassen’s chest.

The man simply said, “Hands.”

“Yassen, please,” Alex begged, stilling pushing with shaking hands against Yassen’s chest. “Don’t do this here. Not- not in front of-”

Tony felt sick.

“Hands,” Yassen said again, voice sharper. Alex swallowed and put his trembling palms against the wall again as Yassen opened his fly.

“Stop it!” Tony yelled again. His hands ached from the force of his grip on the headboard. “He’s a kid, you bastard!”

A hand came up to Alex’s chin, and he ordered, “Spit.”

After only a moment, Alex’s bottom lip trembled as he dribbled spit into Yassen’s palm.

Yassen’s hand slipped inside Alex’s pants, and Alex made a strangled sound and turned his face away from them.

Tony shouted more obscenities as Yassen’s arm moved and Alex’s breathing hitched. 

“Please,” Alex begged quietly. “Please stop.”

Yassen used his other hand to force Alex’s teary eyes to meet him again. “You need to remember who is in charge.”

The man’s hand plunged farther back, and suddenly Alex made a choking sound and scrabbled at the wall behind him, almost climbing up it.

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!” Tony was going to be sick.

Yassen continued ignoring Tony and continued whatever was making Alex look near death. “We’ve never done this before,” the man murmured. “Does it feel good?”

Alex shook his head desperately. He stood on his toes, body so tense he might snap.

“Words,” Yassen snapped. He did something and Alex made a strangled sound of pain. “Does it feel good?”

“No!” Alex cried out, screwing his eyes shut. “It hurts! St-stop!”  
Yassen leaned close and hissed in Alex’s face, “Do not disobey me again.” He removed his hand, making Alex wince in pain. Alex stayed pressed against the wall as Yassen wiped his hand on his shirt.

Turning to Tony, Yassen simply said, “I will be back.” The door slammed behind him as he strode out of the room.

——-

The garage door rattled as McGee opened the storage unit. He, Gibbs, and Ziva ducked inside and looked around in horror.

Clearly someone had been kept here against their will. There was a queen sized mattress on the concrete floor with blankets and two pillows. On the bed were handcuffs attached to long chains that led to a stake drilled into the ground.

When Ziva ventured further inside, she crouched to investigate the cuffs and said, “There are traces of old blood on these. Someone tore their wrists trying to escape.”

Gibbs pointed at the cases of water against the far wall and the small trash can full of empty bottles. “They’ve been here for a few days at least.”

There was a box acting as a nightstand next to the bed, and the items on it made McGee feel sick.

“Guys,” he said as he held up small foil squares and a bottle of clear gel.

Gibbs’ jaw ticked in anger as Tim put them in evidence bags.

Again Ziva spoke up, holding up a DS and several comics from under the mattress, “Gibbs, I think a child was held here.”

———

After Yassen left, Alex stayed pressed up against the wall with his eyes closed. His throat worked, and it looked like he was trying fiercely to hold back emotion.

Eventually, the belt around Tony’s waist beeped, and Alex pulled himself off the wall. He leaned over the bed and pressed the button, buying them five more minutes.

Tony noticed the now dried blood on his hands and said, “Are your wrists and ankle okay?”

Alex pulled his arms to his stomach. “I’m fine. Yassen won’t let me die.”

Somehow, that made Tony feel more sick. “How...” he trailed off and began again. “How long has he had you?”

Alex frowned, uncertain. “What’s the date?”

“August 27th,” Tony said.

“Wow,” Alex said, staring at the wall opposite him. “Almost two months. He took me after school let out.” He looked at Tony and asked, “We’re in DC, right? It looked like it when I got out.”

“Yeah. Where were you before?” Tony asked.

“He took me from Chelsea. In London,” Alex explained numbly. “We moved around a lot. I think we were in Kosovo for a while, or maybe Montenegro. Somewhere in Africa after that, then Europe again. I think he’s trying to find a place he can keep me long term.”

Tony mulled over that. Gregorovich was an assassin, with ties to Scorpia. No doubt he had contacts and resources all over the world. Eventually, he said. “We need to contact my team. They can get us both out of here.”

Alex shook his head. “No one can get me away from Yassen. I tried getting help a few times. He killed everyone.”

“If anyone can, it’s NCIS,” Tony insisted. He thought for a second and said, “You know he won’t let me go. He’s probably making plans to get you somewhere he can put you on suicide watch after he kills me.”

Alex flinched.

“Call my team. Even if you think they can’t help you, they can help me.” And then we’ll all save you. He added in his head.

Finally, Alex nodded. “Okay.”

Tony gave him Gibbs’ number, and they made a plan. As soon as their five minutes began, Alex would leave and scout for a phone. After two minutes he would turn back. Then he would go back and make the call.

Soon, the belt beeped, and Alex pressed the button before sprinting out the door.

Tony counted each second in his head. Three minutes and forty-seven seconds later, Alex ran back into the room.

“There’s a working payphone one minute and twenty-five seconds from here. That gives us just under two minutes for the call,” Alex reported back like a soldier.

Tony nodded. “Okay, good. Did you get the address of these apartments?”

Alex nodded. “I took some coins from a homeless man. You’ll have to pay him back when you get away.”

“Great job, kid,” Tony praised. “Hell, I’ll give him a hundred after we get out. You know what to say?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how long Yassen will be gone, though. They need to be fast,” Alex warned.

“They will be,” Tony assured him.

The belt sounded its warning, and Alex pressed the button before running away again.

———

Gibbs was in the middle of yelling at his team when his phone rang with an unfamiliar number. 

He picked it up and barked, “Gibbs.”

A young, male, British voice said, “I know where your man is.”

Gibbs immediately put it on speakerphone.

“Who is this?”

The boy said, “Alex. I don’t have long to talk. Tony is at 3458 West Chester street, in an abandoned apartment on the first floor. Bring someone who can diffuse a bomb.”

The team looked at each other, and McGee wrote down the address. “Is DiNozzo hurt? Are you?” Gibbs demanded.

“Yassen stopped the bleeding, but he’ll need a hospital,” Alex explained in a hurry. “Don’t underestimate Yassen. He killed everyone who tried to save me. Get here before he gets back.”

“We’ll get both of you out of this,” Gibbs promised. 

“I have to go,” Alex said, and hung up before Gibbs could say anyone else.

“I presume that was the child held in the storage unit,” Ziva said.

“Get your gear,” Gibbs barked. 

As they rushed to the cars, McGee said. “Gregorovich has a long record of murder and torture, but there’s never been evidence of pedophilic tendencies. Did something change, or did he keep it under the radar for all these years?”

Gibbs’ phone rang, and he picked it up while entering the garage. “Yeah, Abbs?”

“Come to my lab!”

“Can’t,” Gibbs said. “We got a lead on DiNozzo’s location.”

Abby said. “That’s great. I’ll just tell you now then. I tested both blood samples. The one outside was Tony’s like we thought. I didn’t get a direct match to the samples inside the storage unit, but I got two familial matches.”

“To who?”

“Well they were both hidden in the MI6 database! But you know me, no firewall can keep me out. Even though this was a particularly tough one-'“

“Who were the matches?”

“The first one was a 25% match to MI6 agent Ian Rider. Who, get this, was killed by Gregorovich a year and a half ago.”

“And the other?”

“I got a fifty percent match to Ian’s brother, John Rider.”

“Was he MI6 too?”

“No! He worked for Scorpia! He was Gregorovich’s mentor, according to MI6’s records, and killed in a prisoner exchange for an ambassador’s son fifteen years ago. So I did some more research in their database, and it turns out John had an infant son who wound up being raised by Ian. The baby’s name was-”

“Alex,” Gibbs interjected.

“How’d you know?”

“Because Alex just called us to tell where DiNozzo is.”

“Oh my goodness! Go save both of them!”

“We will, Abbs,” Gibbs promised.

He hung up and turned to McGee and Ziva. “Alex’s father John Rider trained Gregorovich before he was killed. Alex was raised by his uncle, Ian Rider, who worked for MI6.”

“Thanksgiving must have been awkward,” McGee said in a poor imitation of Tony’s humor.

“Gregorovich killed Ian a year and a half ago,” Gibbs continued.

“I guess we know what changed,” McGee said.

Ziva said, “He found the son of his dead mentor.”

“Let’s go get them both.”

———

After Alex came back, Tony insisted on him sitting down. Since there were no chairs, he sat on the mildewed bed next to Tony.

“So how old are you, kid?” Tony asked.

“Fifteen,” Alex supplied glumly.

“You’ll be getting your temps soon, right?”

“Temps?” Alex asked.

Tony corrected himself. “Learner’s permit. For driving. Forgive my Ohioisms, I went to college there.”

Alex chuckled. “I already know how to drive. My uncle taught me when I was in middle school. Just can’t do it legally yet.”

“He sounds like a cool guy,” Tony said. “Are you close?”

Nodding, Alex said. “We were. He raised me until Yassen killed him.”

Damn. Tony didn’t know what to say to that.

After a moment, Alex continued the conversation. “Have you always worked for NCIS? That’s the Navy police, right?”

“Basically,” Tony agreed. “I was a detective in Baltimore before. Gibbs recruited. That’s the guy you called.”

“Why is NCIS involved?” Alex asked.

“Gregorovich killed a Naval Officer,” Tony explained.

Alex asked, “Was it Captain Everett?”

“Yeah,” Tony said with a frown. “How’d you know?”

“Everett’s a traitor. He was working with Scorpia and helped Yassen get that storage unit he kept me in.”

The belt beeped again, and Alex pressed the button.

“You’re sure?” Tony asked. That was huge.

Alex nodded and said, “Yeah. I met him. He didn’t seem completely sold on Yassen keeping me, but he made it clear that he would do what someone higher up in Scorpia asked. I guess the money was right.”

“Damn,” Tony said. “Scorpia has people in the Navy?”

Alex chuckled darkly. “They have people everywhere. MI6, the CIA, the White House, Downing Street. There’s always someone looking for a bigger paycheck.”

“How do you know all this?” Tony asked.

Alex closed his eyes. “Yassen has been ‘educating’ me. He wants me to be like my father.”

“How?” Tony asked.

Alex took a breath before deciding to say. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you. My life’s already over.”

“No, it’s not,” Tony whispered.

“My Dad trained Yassen,” Alex admitted.

Tony’s eyes widened. “Your dad worked for Scorpia?”

“No!” Alex insisted. “He was undercover. He and my uncle both worked for MI6. Yassen still thinks he worked for Scorpia, though, and that MI6 killed him. But they didn’t, Scorpia did. I don’t know what will happen if Yassen finds out.”

Alex presses the button on the belt again.

Suddenly, there was a thud from down the hall. Alex and Tony tensed and looked at each other. Was it Yassen or the MCRT?

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs’ familiar voice called in a whisper, and Tony grinned.

“In here, boss!” He called.

Alex pressed himself to the headboard, looking panicked. The idea of rescue had to be so distant to him, that he didn’t know what to do.

Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva burst through the door, “Tony!” Ziva called.

They looked around the room for threats and rushed over to him.

“Careful!” Alex called, holding out a hand to keep them away from the bed. “That belt is a bomb. If you tear the wire attached to the bed, it’ll go off.”

They all slowed, and Ziva approached carefully. “Do you know how to disable it?” She asked Alex.

He shook his head and said, “No. It’s not a Scorpia design.”

“Come here, kid,” Gibbs beckoned him away from Tony and the bomb. “You’re safe now.”

Alex shook his head, but stood up. “No, I’m not.” Instead of going to Gibbs, he darted over to a corner. “If you just leave with Tony, Yassen might let you live. If I go with you, he’ll kill you all to get me back.”

“We can protect you,” McGee assured him.

“No!” Alex cried. “Just take him! I don’t want anymore people to die because of me.”

Gibbs ordered, “Get that bomb off of Tony, Ziva.”

“Working on it, Boss,” Ziva said. She straddled Tony and carefully pried the top of the buckle’s casing off, revealing the mechanism and wires within. “This is a KLA design. Kosovo Liberation Army.”

Tony nodded and said, “Makes sense. Alex said Gregorovich took him to Kosovo.”

“Stay still,” Ziva warned him, looking through the wires with a pair of small pliers.

“Oh, really? I thought I’d tap dance while you diffused the bomb on my chest,” Tony said.

He looked over to where Alex was still hiding in the corner. Suddenly, Alex looked at the window next to him and shouted, “Get down!”

As McGee and Gibbs hit the deck, someone shot out the window and jumped through it.

Yassen.

The assassin fired another shot at McGee, who rolled out of the way, and grabbed Alex, who shouted.

Alex raised his arms to shrug off Yassen’s hold on his shoulder and punched the man in the throat. Somehow, Yassen barely reeled from this and spun Alex around, grabbing him under the shoulder and across his throat, holding him to his chest. Alex threw his head back, but with the height difference, all Yassen had to do was turn his head to avoid being struck in the chin.

“Why can you never behave, Sasha?” He asked coldly.

McGee and Gibbs pointed their guns at Yassen while Ziva continued working on the bomb.

“Let him go,” Gibbs ordered.

“Yassen, please!” Alex begged. “You have me. Don’t kill anyone else!”

Yassen ignored Gibbs and said, “You caused this, Alex. I spared the life of one, and you brought more people to die.”

Alex thrashed, but couldn’t get free. He slammed his free fist into Yassen’s leg, but the man didn’t budge.

“Put down the gun, now!” Gibbs shouted.

Practically sobbing, Alex said, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll go back to Malagosto and train! You can do whatever you want to me, just don’t kill anyone else.”

“You are better than this, Sasha,” Yassen said distastefully. “Don’t lower yourself with futile pleas.”

“You can’t turn me into my dad!” Alex shouted, now becoming angry. “He never loved you, he betrayed you! He was working for MI6 the whole time!”

This seemed to disrupt Yassen. “That is false, little Alex. Why would they kill their own agent?”

As Alex dropped this bomb, Ziva finished disarming the one attached to Tony. She quickly removed the belt and began unlocking the cuffs.

“They didn’t!” Alex snarled. “They faked his death, and then Scorpia killed him for real.”

Yassen’s hand on his gun twitched, and he said, “We will discuss this later,” before shooting Gibbs.

“No!” Alex screamed as the man fell. 

This, finally, seemed to give Alex the motivation he needed. He lifted his legs then threw himself to the ground, breaking Yassen’s hold on him. He came back up and threw an elbow into Yassen’s gut and a knee into his groin before yanking the gun from his hand.

He leveled the gun at Yassen’s head.

Yassen laughed. “You will not kill me, Alex. You have tried and bitched out several times.”

Alex wavered for a second, and Yassen moved to step forward.

Alex shot him in the head.

As Yassen fell to the ground dead, Alex shakily dropped the gun, tears running down his face.

Tony pulled his hands free and hurled himself off the bed to check on Gibbs. Their team leader sat up with a wince, having taken the round in his flack jacket. Seeing that Gibbs was alright, Tony then limped over to Alex.

“Alex,” he said softly, staying just out of reach of the skittish teenager. “It’s over. He’s dead.”

Alex sobbed and turned to Tony, who pulled him into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said.

“Hey, hey,” Tony said, rubbing Alex’s back. “You have nothing to be sorry for. He deserved to die.”

Alex shook his head and said, “I should have should have killed him two months ago. Hell, I should have killed him the first time I met him.”

“Oh, kid,” Tony said. “It’s not your fault.”

Alex just shook his head again.

“You’re safe,” Tony insisted. After a moment he let go of Alex, because he had in fact been shot in the leg that day, and was about to fall over. Ziva caught him on the way down and helped him to sit on the floor.

Alex collapsed back against the wall too.

“This is Agent Timothy McGee of NCIS,” McGee said into his phone, still kneeling next to Gibbs. “I’ve got two agents down, a dead suspect and one injured victim, requesting EMS and officers to secure the scene.”

“It’s over, kid,” Tony said. “It’s over.”.


End file.
